A Sense of Wonder: A Conversation with Jonathan Carroll
By Ruth Mariampolski
for Borders.com
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his previous book, the critically praised novel The Wooden Sea, Jonathan
Carroll's White Apples begins with a character who dies and then returns.
The return from the grave is only one of the mysteries Vincent Ettrich
must confront, however. He was a happy philanderer who left his wife
for the love of his life, Isabelle, but it didn't turn out as he expected.
Months after they last saw each other (and his own death), he hears
that Isabelle is pregnant and needs to speak with him. Her unborn baby
may have an important role to play in the future of the universe…
if the destructive forces of chaos don't destroy its chance at life.
Were there any particular books or philosophies that influenced you in writing White Apples?
Jonathan Carroll: I've always been fascinated by the story of Orpheus and Eurydice: People who loved each other so much that one was willing to chance going into the afterlife to bring the other back from death. That was the starting point of White Apples, because I have always wanted to write a big, fat love story. And that myth, that tall tale, that dream of the perfect lover, was a terrific place to start. What if you died and your beloved went into death to bring you back? Furthermore, what if all that happened, but you didn't know about any of it until right now? And that was only the beginning, Chapter 1, the first 20 pages?
How did you turn that inspiration, that old story, into an altogether new creation?
JC: I'm one of those writers who know nothing about a story when they start it but find their way as they go along. The only thing I knew when I began White Apples was that the book opens with the main character discovering that he died but is alive again, back in his old everyday, and nothing has changed. How could that be? How could he not remember anything about death? And why, oh, why is he back here? Aren't things supposed to change when you die? Isn't there supposed to be a heaven or a hell or something that is the line of demarcation between the living and the dead? That happens in the first chapter of the book. What happens after that just seemed like a natural outgrowth from that discovery. Readers so far seem to be the most intrigued with the concept of the mosaic, which is one way of looking at God and the afterlife that is integral to the rest of the story. I'm just pleased that it was believable enough to make them talk about it.
Vincent, as a character, reminds me of Tomas from The Unbearable Lightness of Being. In that book, Milan Kundera puts forth the idea that "epic womanizers" are a type that philander simply because they enjoy and appreciate every aspect of women. He also theorizes that this type will never be "cured" of womanizing. Tomas is one such character, and it appears that Vincent is, as well. Do you agree? Looking past the bounds of the story, do you think Vincent will ever stray from Isabelle?
JC: Funny you ask. I've just started work on what will be the second book of what I think will be a trilogy about the Ettrich family. It will continue their story after the end of White Apples. At this point, straying from Isabelle will be the last thing on Vincent's mind when he is confronted with what the gods hold in store for him and his family. But who knows? As I said, I never know from page to page what will happen. Vincent used to be an incorrigible womanizer before he met Isabelle. Will he stop? Only the Shadow knows!
Do you consider yourself a fantasy author? What does the term "fantasy" mean to you?
JC: No, I've never thought of myself as a fantasy author, nor do I think of my books as being in the fantasy genre. Sure, they have fantasy elements in them, but so do a great number of books by authors we don't usually consider in this genre. Is Paul Auster a fantasy novelist because he has a character in one book who can fly? Is Kafka, with Gregor Samsa, a man who turns into a bug? Is Mark Helprin, with his ships as big as cities? In Germany, one critic said I write hyper-fiction. When I asked what that meant, he said if you look up the word "hyper" in the dictionary, one definition says "reality beyond three dimensions." I've always liked that one. Besides, I've been known to become hyper about a lot of things.
When did you first become interested in the absurd and surreal?
JC: One of the saddest things about growing up is adults lose their sense of wonder. And most of the time they don't even know it's gone. Children accept talking dogs, gods, monsters under the bed, and invisible friends who keep them company throughout childhood as no big deal. Adults poo-poo all this stuff because it's not "real." But real does not mean interesting much of the time, and that is why adulthood is so often bland and predictable. The poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti wrote a poem in which he uses the phrase "a rebirth of wonder." When was the last time your jaw dropped open in wonder? When was the last time you gasped with delight—really gasped, not just had a little hiccup of "Oh!"? Kids do it all the time because the world they live in—which just happens to be the same one we do—is a wonder-full place. In my books, I am trying my damndest to make you drop your jaw and gasp. That's my goal and always will be. Surrealism and the absurd? Adult words—forget them. Drop your jaw—that's what it is all about.
All of your books have fantastical elements but stay grounded in real life and the modern day. Have you ever thought of creating a fantasy world apart from our own, in the manner of Middle-earth or Narnia?
JC: No, I'll leave that to the likes of China Miéville in his astonishing novel Perdido Street Station or M. John Harrison in Viriconium Nights. That's what they do best. If you're interested in worlds other than or beyond ours, those are the novels to track down and revel in.
Do you have a favorite of your own books?
JC: In Hemingway's Islands in the Stream, the main character is confronted by his oldest child, who says something along the lines of, "I know you love my brother most." The character says, "Yes, that's true, but I have loved you longest, so which is more important?" Books are like your children—some of them you're prouder of than others, but they all came from you, and to say Jack is better than Jill is risking all of their ire. When people ask which book they should begin with if they've never read my work, I say begin with the first. That way if you like it, you can read chronologically and see if I've gotten any better over the years or just stayed in the same place and danced the same step with myself.
What are you reading right now?
JC: Pat Conroy's new memoir, My Losing Season. Conroy's one of those writers that when he publishes a new book, I drop everything and run to the store to buy a copy.
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